


Blur

by aaelenie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Knifeplay, M/M, PWP, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaelenie/pseuds/aaelenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place S3E6, after Will is shot in Florence and Hannibal tends to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blur

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing! Gods forbid if I did. Just borrowing them for my own enjoyment and yours.

Trembling in pain, Will listened to Hannibal, barely registering the words he was speaking. Hannibal returned Will’s forgiveness to him but it hurt too much and he dropped it unceremoniously to the floor, he had just enough focus to comprehend what the doctor was saying to him.  
Hannibal dug the bullet out of Will’s shoulder, his hands becoming soaked in his blood. When it was out he dropped it on the table next to him and picked up a needle and thread. Despite the excruciating pain, Will started to take deep breaths to still the shuddering of his body so that Hannibal could sew up the hole in his shoulder. He could feel the thread moving through his flesh slowly at the behest of Hannibal’s expert hands.  
Finishing closing the wound, Hannibal bent down and bit off the excess thread. He set it and the needle back down on the side table and placed his right hand on the younger man’s abdomen, over the scar he left when he fled his home. Will looked up, into Hannibal’s eyes, which were waiting for his own blue ones.  
Will could feel a pull between them the moment Hannibal touched the tangible reminder the blonde man had left on him. He felt owned, claimed, that he belonged not just to himself but to Hannibal. It wasn’t just a feeling, he knew, he knew that the scar was there to tell him that his Becoming was Hannibal’s design. Hannibal had claimed him, his past, present, and future self. There was before Hannibal, but there would never be an after Hannibal.  
To say that Will couldn’t resist the pull implies that he had a choice, that he thought about it; he didn’t even question whether his actions would be welcome, he knew this was supposed to be.  
Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal, receiving a warm welcome, like he was coming home. Lips unsealed and tongues met, dancing together in a waltz to which they had always known the steps.  
As the kiss deepened, breathing each other in, Will felt Hannibal press even harder on his scar, as if he needed reminding of his claiming. Will brought up his left hand and lost it in Hannibal’s hair, pulling him closer, trying to blur the edges of themselves.  
Hannibal brought his other hand around to Will’s front and used both to undo the few remaining buttons on the younger man’s torn and bloody shirt. He broke away from the kiss to remove the ruined garment from Will, taking extra care to slide the sleeve off of his injured arm, not wanting to cause further distress.  
Will felt the air, cool against his heated flesh, caressing the long scar. He shivered and watched with adoration as Hannibal leaned back on his knees and pulled off the dark sweater without ceremony, as if only undressing to go to bed. After setting it aside he returned to Will who welcome him back eagerly, tongues seeking each other out.  
Feeling Hannibal’s hand on his bare flesh, thumb tracing his scar, he knew that everything had led him here, to this place, this man, this relationship. This was always supposed to happened, always going to happen. And he knew that this was what Hannibal had been searching for, longing for all his life: him. He could feel it in the way their bodies connected and reacted to each other.  
Hannibal slid his hand away from Will’s scar and up his chest, around his neck to grab a handful of his dark, curly hair, keeping him close. He brought his other hand up and left it in the center of Will’s back, splaying his fingers. Will’s own hand slid out of Hannibal’s smooth hair and down his neck, his chest. He stilled his hand and used his thumb to lightly caress Hannibal’s nipple. After a few moments his hand continued its journey downward to Hannibal’s pants where he fumbled with his belt with just one hand, keeping his injured arm still. Hannibal disconnected their mouths and pulled his hands away from Will’s body, using one to still his hand. He pulled the younger man’s hand away and placed it in his lap so that he could unfasten his own belt and pants. He stood up to remove his shoes, followed immediately by his pants, leaving only his boxer-briefs in place.  
Will sat in the chair, watching Hannibal, fully aware of the tightness in his pants, and in the doctor’s. He didn’t acknowledge the knife that Hannibal removed from his ankle, but he did make a mental note of it when he placed it on the table beside him.  
The two men kept eye contact as Hannibal kneeled in front of Will to undo the buttons on his pants. Will bore his weight on his good arm to lift himself up from the chair so that Hannibal could slide his pants off after removing his shoes. Once Will’s pants and underwear were safely off to the side, Hannibal placed one hand on each arm of the chair and pushed himself up to kiss Will hard and fast, too quick for Will to respond before he was gone and felt sharp teeth nipping at his neck.  
Much to his disappointment, Hannibal was gone too soon, biting his way down. When he got to his scar, he bit down, teeth on top and bottom of the raised flesh, almost hard enough to draw blood, but not quite. He ran his tongue over it before removing his mouth and continuing down to Will’s hardness.  
Will felt a wet warmth along the underside of his length as Hannibal ran the tip of his tongue along it from the base, stopping at the junction of the head and shaft to rub that spot with his tongue, and then continuing onto the slit. Will gasped sharply as Hannibal took just the head into his mouth and circled his tongue around it. Just as Will got used to the sensation, the rhythm, Hannibal started sucking on him, pulling on him with his mouth. Will reached his hand down to Hannibal’s face to stroke it lightly and then up to his hair, grabbing it hard but not hard enough to pull him away.  
Will leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying himself. He was reveling in not just the sensations but in the emptiness of his mind, no thoughts, dark or otherwise, to take this moment from him. This was all that existed. He and Hannibal were the only ones that mattered, and this coming together was important.  
Before long Hannibal removed his mouth from Will who sighed at the loss. The taller man stood up and leaned down to kiss Will who was looking up at him reverently. He removed the last barrier between them and placed his hands underneath and pulled him closer to him. He lifted Will’s legs, one at a time, and placed them on his shoulders, blue eyes never breaking away from hazel.  
Hannibal reached down between them, stroking will and coating his hand in his essence. Will moaned softly and Hannibal’s hand was gone too soon. He watched him spit into his hand and then stroke himself, slicking his own phallus with his saliva and Will’s blood and semen.  
Will braced himself, gripping the arm of the chair, as Hannibal entered him, pushing slowly and gently. Will winced and evened out his breathing as Hannibal set up an easy pace, holding onto his hips. When Hannibal was satisfied that Will had adjusted to the sensation, he pushed all the way in, increasing the pace.  
Leaning down to kiss Will shifted Hannibal’s angle inside Will, making them moan into each other’s mouths. Tongues met and danced again as Will reached over and grabbed Hannibal’s knife he had left on the table. He brought it to the dominant man’s side, underneath his ribs and applied pressure. He felt the knife open up his flesh under his hand and heard Hannibal moan in pleasure, never stopping. He dragged the knife down a few inches before dropping it on the floor, Hannibal’s knife on one side of them, his own on the other. He brought his hand up and grabbed a fistful of Hannibal’s dirty blonde hair and pulling hard, leaving it red and sticky.  
Without missing a beat, Hannibal removed his hand from Will’s hip and placed it on his side, covering it with his blood. He enclosed his blood-covered hand around Will and began stroking him. Will bit Hannibal’s lip hard and he increased the pace of both his hips and his hand.  
With the quickened pace, it wasn’t long before Will moaned loudly and expended himself over Hannibal’s hand and his own stomach. Will brought Hannibal’s hand up to his mouth and placed his first finger inside, cleaning it of their mixed blood and cum with his tongue, staring into Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal freed his hand from Will’s grasp and placed his middle finger inside his own mouth, cleaning it off. Will took Hannibal’s hand again and slid his last two fingers into his mouth and cleaned them off.  
Hannibal released himself inside Will with a few controlled jerks, his fingers inside Will’s mouth. He pulled his hand away from Will and placed it on the dark haired man’s side, stroking Will’s scar with his uncleaned thumb as he lowered himself to rest on the smaller man, bearing most of his weight on his other arm.  
After a few moments Hannibal stood up and offered his cleaner hand, the one with just Will’s dried blood, to help him up. Will stood but found himself shaky and fell to his knees. Hannibal followed him down and Will pulled him down further so that they were lying on the floor.  
Hannibal lay on his side, Will on his back. Hannibal placed his cleaned, slightly sticky, hand on Will’s scar, nearly covering the whole length, and Will placed his own hand over Hannibal’s, gently so as not to strain his wounded shoulder. This is their design.

**Author's Note:**

> I never wanted to write Hannibal fic, they are so perfect I don't think that I can properly write them and do everyone justice. But I needed something and sometimes you just have to do things yourself. I'm overwhelmed with ideas now that I have to write more, so if you liked this keep your eyes open.


End file.
